The Fall of the Gods
by Yellow Wedge
Summary: A little piece I did for a friend, as it were.


The sun dipped below a pure, untainted ocean, bathing the island in a crimson glow which quite matched the carnage which was drawing to an excruciating close. On the plateau of the craggy granite northern side of the island, Lethys' eyes were wide with fear as he watched from the balcony of his temple's bedroom as, on the slopes of his mountain capital, his barbarian army faltered, stammered and fell before the blades of his foe's force. He leapt from the window, soaring low in his symbol-form to conserve his energy. As he had been forced back to his final town, his mana was running low, and he needed to save it for the inevitable clash between the two of them which was sure to come. To even retain his humanoid form would drain too much. He approached a group of men standing on the wall of his temple, observing the carnage below. Gradually, they noticed his presence.

A huge, bear-chested man with a hooded brow and a moustache as white as the snow around them turned and thumped his chest in a kind of 'macho' salute to his god.

"My lord." He muttered, in shame "My soldiers…have failed you…"

"What do you mean, they've failed me?" Lethys screeched, "Make them fight! Rally them! Do something!"

"There is nothing I can do!" The man cried "I doubt any of them will even make it this far up the mountain _to _be rallied."

Lethys fell silent, the horror creeping up his metaphysical spine like a spider made of ice. He was going to die, and he knew it.

"Look as she slaughters them!" The man continued, sweeping his arm towards the massacre "is there no hope left? Perhaps you could-"

"S-Silence!" Lethys snarled "My presence is required here! I shall send Chugworth!"

Even as Lethys whistled a note that echoed upon the planes of physical and godly existence, he knew the true reason he did not join the battle to hold back Lienna's horde. He was absolutely, irreversibly terrified of her; of what she would do to him if she found him.

The snow hissed and melted into steam as it was splashed, time and again, with the blood of the fur-clad men who scattered before her, and Lienna sang to her soldiers as she led them from the front: pure, beautiful notes which inspired and rallied her men around her as they fought on with even greater determination. She strode before them: shimmering with crimson light as she slashed with her elegant, yet cruelly serrated broadsword. Contrary to her evil, vengeful nature, Lienna was dressed in armour which consisted of a pearly-white breastplate and boots, pitch-black grieves, shoulder plates and gloves, and a single, crimson sash of silk which covered her left eye and the scar which had blinded it: a wound she had received from the creed-imbued blade of Nemesis, and a wound she knew would never heal. Blades imbued with the power of a creed were the only way a god could be truly slain in combat.

She slashed left and right in quick succession, neatly divorcing a barbarian's torso and head, and then splitting another from brow to groin, vertically. Beside her, a titanic horse, walking anthropomorphically, strode through a line of the soldiers. Toeto was outfitted with a vast, black scale-mail vest and a kind of demi-helmet of pearly white. Both of which bore the symbol of his mistress' kingdom; the coiled, serpent-dragon. The twenty-foot-tall creature stopped in his tracks, summoning a ball of flame to hover before him, then casting it at a tight-packed group of fleeing soldiers with a sweep of his hand. The fireball burst in the air just above the men, showering them with a heavy drizzle of magma, which set alight their clothes and send them rolling back towards the marching horde, to be trampled underfoot. Lienna smiled a twisted, lopsided grin, pushing off from the ground to land on the shoulder of her creature, and pet his vast, muscle-knotted neck.

"Kill them all." She told him, gently. He did: stomping men under hooves as hard as diamond, kicking several flying and hurling fireballs at any group which dared to turn and fight. Behind the horse, soldiers from every village swept after them: Celtic warriors with tribal markings and their mistress' symbol tattooed on their bare chests, Japanese soldiers in light, cloth armour but with their elegant sword-fighting technique which was almost a dance, Greek men in heavy armour, with their long spears forming an impenetrable hedge of spikes before their army. They were unbeatable! They killed and killed and killed, and eventually the enemy soldiers simply stopped coming, and started running.

That was when the first of the fireballs began to fall. Four, simultaneous explosions tore ranks apart and sent men flying. Weapons and shields clattered to the floor and screams split the cold night en-masse. In confusion, Lienna and Toeto turned about, finally spotting the culprit: a crimson-eyed silhouette atop a short cliff which caused the path to fork ahead, its fastness exceeding that of Toeto by at least a quarter. The monster bared its yellowed, needle-like teeth in a snarl which caused even the mighty war-horse to pause for a moment.

"It's him…" Lienna muttered. Toeto didn't need telling twice: he remembered the days, weeks, months even, where he'd been frozen in time: nothing but agony inflicted by Chugworth to mark the time.

He let out a low, threatening snort. Lienna felt his shoulders heave below her feet, as he mentally and physically prepared himself to fight.

"Kill him!" Lienna snapped. Toeto didn't need telling twice. He charged forward, leaping into the chilled air as Lienna hurriedly abandoned her perch. Chugworth was taken by surprise, taking a half-step backwards as the gigantic horse soared towards him, spinning in mid air to deliver a devastating kick to the thick-furred barrel chest. The rippling force of the attack sent the wolf staggering backwards as Toeto landed on the cliff-edge previously occupied by him. The two circled, trading blows and occasionally grappling to throw one-another down to the ground, but with limited success: the shaggy wolf was savage and muscular, and the horse was athletic, lithe and intelligent. At one point, the battle nearly took a fatal turn for Toeto, as Chugworth lashed out with his huge, hooked claws, and Toeto's late dodge caused him to receive three great gashes across his neck and shoulders. However, with his dramatic lunge, Chugworth unbalanced himself, staggering forwards and into the grasp of his opponent. Toeto twisted, shoved and then pulled back to deliver a devastating uppercut to the wolf. Chugworth teetered on the edge of the steep, craggy cliff: dazed from the previous blow, and Toeto raised his hooves, electricity crackling around his form as he charged for a finisher.

…Then it was over. A great flash of blue lightning and a thunderclap, and Chugworth was falling, over and over to be dashed against the rocks below, and swallowed by the churning waves until no trace of him remained but bones in the sand below. Lienna turned her head to stare directly up at Lethys' temple, and he was there, in human-form, on the balcony once more. He staggered to one side, leaning against the wall and clutching at his chest as though his very soul had been torn asunder. For the first time in his long, twisted, pathetic existence, Lethys felt true, selfless sorrow, and shame at having sent his creature out to die alone, without him by his side.

"Chug…worth…" he rasped, from between chapped lips.

---

Lienna crunched through the freshly-fallen snow, towards Lethys capital: a Norse town which covered a small area, yet was heavily built: with dozens of huts in what would normally only be suitable for half that. Behind her, row after row of soldiers assembled, ready to move in, and the scarred, grim-looking war-horse stood at their head. There was no army to defend this place, its people were helpless, defenceless and at the mercy of Lienna.

Lethys touched down before them, suddenly, his fur-cloak billowing in the wind and a hunting-spear in his hands. His beard was greyer than she remembered it being at their last meeting, and his eyes were wide, afraid.

"P-please…" He gasped. "Your power is mighty, and I have little strength…"

"What's new?" Lienna extended a hand, conjuring her sword to her palm in a flicker of shadow and flame.

"Spare me, and I shall give you the creed from Khazaar's dead creature…"

Lethys raised a palm an between the two of them, a shimmering indescribable orb of godly power formed from nothingness. It was difficult to look at: always shifting slightly, and constantly flickering with images of past, present and future. Lienna shrugged at the meagre offering: she could just take it from his corpse. Toeto stomped forwards, scooping the artefact up and returning to their lines.

"I-I'll even show you the location of another one! It's in a land you once knew!"

"Lethys" Lienna cut into his stammering pleas like a red hot poker into ice "Excuse me a moment: I must address my men."

She turned to face her troops and her words dropped like boulders into the pit of Lethys' stomach.

"Burn it all. Kill every living thing in that town. Don't stop until it's ash."

He fell to his knees, no longer able to stand, his spear clattering to the ground and evaporating in a puff of frozen moisture. He hardly saw the soldiers running past him: vague blurs of gaudily-coloured uniform and armour. Screams began behind him, but he didn't register them. He simply stared at the ground, gradually razing his gaze to meet the cold stare of his adversary…nay…his better.

"You have taken…everything from me…" he managed to stammer. She crunched towards him, her blade raised for a killing stroke. Without his people, he was no longer able to shield himself or regenerate after wounds.

"No Lethys" she told him "You were weak, pathetic and reliant on others to protect you. You were always going to die, by my hand or another god's. Did you really think Nemesis would keep you around after he'd disposed of the others?"

"O-others?"

"Your spiritual connection with the void must be weaker than I thought. No matter, we'll correct that soon. Can you not feel it? Other gods, dying by the dozen, both far and near." Lienna shook her head, sadly: as though their deaths were a mournful chorus of voices crying in pain, constantly behind her. "He's killing them. All of them. Soon there will be none but he and I."

"And…what happens to me?" Lethys asked.

"You become a denizen of the great Void, Lethys. You return to that eternal slumber, never to be summoned to Eden again."

A sword-blade flashed bright against the moon, its ringing 'hiss' of steel and flesh meeting echoed far longer than it should have by rights. On the crest of the mountain, at the very top, Lethys temple faded, trembled, and simply ceased to exist with a subsonic bang of spiritual energy, which, in turn faded to nothingness. Lethys was dead, and the only remnant of him, one hundred years later, was a feeling of melancholy sadness and uselessness, experienced by travellers who stood upon it. A fitting end for a cruel, cowardly god.

Lienna turned to the bottom of the cliff, where a vortex of whirling colour and reality had opened, as though expecting them. Toeto joined her, gazing down at it. She glanced up at him, for a moment, smiling.

"Once more into the breach, dear friend?" she asked. Toeto snorted, indignantly.

"Don't be like that; we won, didn't we?"

The horse nodded, reluctantly.

"We have to get to that creed before Nemesis, so we're going to have to hurry."

She took off, changing to symbol-form and hovering in the shape of a coiled serpent-dragon before him. Her voice echoed out of nowhere and Toeto pricked his ears to hear it over the din of screaming and the roar of the flames which engulfed Lethys' capital:

"Onwards, never backwards."


End file.
